


Rock Out With Thine Cock Out

by bohemeyourself



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Circle Jerk, Facials, Group Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemeyourself/pseuds/bohemeyourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian thinks Brendon is trying to goad them all into an orgy, and Ian is down with this plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Out With Thine Cock Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I had to.
> 
> Brendon Urie, on his twitter a while back:  
> "@TheIanCrawford @TheSpencerSmith @DallonWeekes And it came to pass that the lord god did say: Let them rock out with thine cock out."
> 
> To which Hermette said:  
> "I'm so serious, if someone doesn't write Panic 3.0 GSF with facials (titled Rock Out With Thine Cock out), I will lose all faith in humanity"

Okay, so like, this whole thing has gone way too far. It’s like Brendon’s provoking them into something. Ian can’t even think about it for too long without wanting to just shove Brendon onto his knees and stuff his cock into that filthy mouth. Ian’s not the type to do that, has never even considered himself dominant in bed before Brendon.

Sure, there’s moments when they’re on stage and Brendon pulls Ian down onto his chest and Ian’s just resting there like that, and he thinks about what it would be like to have Brendon push him around, too.

But what Ian wants most, and he suspects Brendon wants too, is all of them. Ian hasn’t missed the way Spencer wraps his fingers around Brendon’s wrist to get his attention, the clearly unsubtle way his attention goes rapt onto Brendon’s as soon as he speaks, the way Brendon stripped onstage, at Spencer no less. At first, Ian was convinced they were together, but no. Brendon plays with everyone. Ian had thought it was just for show, fanservice or some shit. But he does it, like, all the time. Brendon is always Brendon, no matter what he’s doing. He’s bouncy and loud and touchy (because if there’s anyone in the world that personal space boundaries didn’t exist for, it was Brendon Boyd Urie) and Ian can’t even... just fuck. He wants.

So yeah, Brendon and Spencer and Ian. Dallon too, if they can get him to do it. But Dallon has like, a wife, and morals and shit.

Ian brings it up to Spencer first, because he’s the one that’s most likely to you know, not judge and crap. He’s the go-to guy for sorting things out.

“So, like, Brendon’s doing it on purpose, right? With like, the stripping and the Marvin Gaye and all that. It’s aimed at us?”

Spencer laughs. “Yeah, probably. I mean, it’s hard to tell with him sometimes, but I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get a rise out of somebody, yeah.” Ian resists the urge to point out the double entendre.

“Okay, so like, what do we do?”

“Well, clearly this calls for a band orgy.” Spencer says, smirking at Ian, who almost spit-takes his coffee all over the bus kitchenette. And so Spencer and Ian plan, and they ambush Dallon one day. They’re all “hey, dude, you know how Brendon’s all like, super hot and willing and junk? Well we’re pretty sure he wants us to have sex with him, so if you can go ahead and get permission from your wife that would be great” and Ian tries not to crack up at the thought of Spencer doing a Bill Lumbergh impression.

So it’s happening, now, they have it all planned. Everyone has permission from the ladyfriends and it’s actually going to happen. And Ian’s kind of nervous, because what if they were wrong? Ian spends the next week alternatively jerking off and freaking out. Because that’s what you do when you’re about to have a giant band orgy.

And so they have a hotel night, a big fat suite all to themselves, the kind with separate rooms with king-sized beds and the whole nine yards. And Ian kind of putters around and is like “oh fuck, what do I do what do I do?” and Spencer just smiles and pulls out a joint. It’s much easier to relax after that.

“So Brendon, we have talked and we have decided that we should all have sex.”

Brendon looks like all of his Christmases have come at once. “Took you guys long enough.”

And Spencer sighs, long-suffering, because he’s had to put up with Brendon’s antics for far longer than the rest of them. “You’re an idiot. You know you could have said something.”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun this way.”

“Just shut up and take your pants off.”

So Brendon does, and everybody follows suit, and there is making out and touching, and like, a thousand hands everywhere and Ian’s so overwhelmed, and Spencer just grabs his hand and leads them all to the bed.

“Spencer, Spence.” Brendon’s voice has gone all low, husky. “I want you to kiss Ian.”

“But, I thought, like,” Okay, now Ian’s confused. “You wanted” he gestures, lamely, between Brendon and the rest of them.

“I do,” Brendon says. “One step at a time, little one.”

Behind him, Dallon laughs. “It probably isn’t good to call him ‘little one’ when we’re all about to have sex.”

“Shut it, you.” Spencer says, and then wraps his hand around the back of Ian’s neck. His hands are warm, large and calloused, and when Spencer tugs Ian just sort of stumbles into his chest. But then Spencer is kissing him, hands guiding him gently, and oh,

Ian’s kissed a lot in his life. He’s even kissed a lot in front of other people before. But this, he’s never quite kissed for the expressed purpose of other people watching before. It’s odd, for about a millisecond, because holy shit Spencer’s mouth. Spencer kisses with his entire being, all smooth swipes of his tongue, warm and slick and freaking perfect. Ian’s starting to really get into it, he’s hard against Spencer’s thigh, thinking idly about touching when there are hands on his shoulders, pulling him away gently.

“Wha-”

“Spencer, kiss Dallon now.” Brendon winks at Ian when he turns, like he fucking knows. But Brendon’s lit up, he’s on, like he is on stage. He’s getting off on the show.

Which, is an awesome show. Ian isn’t going to lie. Ian has the hottest goddamn bandmates on the planet.

“C’mere, little one,” Brendon says, growls really. And then his mouth is on Ian’s, hot and demanding and seriously, could his life get any better right now?

There’s a noise from the bed, and Brendon breaks away to look at Spencer and Dallon. “Brendon,” Spencer says. “Come here.”

Spencer arranges them all on the bed, he and Dallon kneeling on Brendon’s side, Ian pressed down the other. Spencer’s got one hand on Dallon, and the other somewhere on Brendon, and they both have their hands on Spencer, and it’s basically a circle-jerk. Except where those are weird and awkward, this is hot and so, so awesome.

“Ian,” Brendon whines, “touch me.” Brendon is rock hard, cock flushed red and leaking at the tip. His skin is velvet soft and burning hot when Ian touches him. He’s like this just from watching us, Ian thinks.

Ian ducks his head to lick and suck at Brendon’s neck. Brendon whines again, pushing his hips into Ian’s fist.

“Be rough, Ian. It’s okay to leave marks.” Spencer says.

“Oh fuck,” Dallon moans, shuddering into his orgasm. His come splashes Ian’s knuckles and Brendon’s cock.

“Oh shit, you too, Spence.” Brendon says, tightening his grip on Spencer.

“Yeah,” Spencer grunts, pushing into Brendon and Dallon’s fists. He comes with a long groan, shooting straight onto Brendon’s cock. Their come is slick in Ian’s hand, coating Brendon’s cock. Brendon is moaning and thrashing, and Spencer leans down and kisses him. “C’mon, Bren,” and that’s it, Brendon’s going off like a rocket, arching up off the bed so hard Ian thinks he might snap in half.

Ian is going to die at this point, because seriously how has no one touched his cock yet? But he’s so close already, just from watching Spencer and Dallon come all over Brendon’s cock, which is the hottest fucking thing ever. Ian rolls away from Brendon to get a hand on his cock. He’s seriously so close.

“Wait,” Brendon says, rolling up onto his knees. Ian keens, gripping the base of his dick to keep from coming.

“What?” Ian fixes him with what he hopes is a glare, one that will convey his exact level of need right now.

“Here,” Brendon slithers off the bed and onto his knees, tugging at Ian’s legs to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come on my face, Ian.”

Ian gets with the program in a second, because hello? this is what he wanted from the get-go. Ian strokes himself not a handful of times, while Brendon babbles at him.

“C’mon, Ian, I want it, want your come on my face.” He licks at the head of Ian’s cock when it peeks through his fist, and that’s it, he’s done. Ian jerks, streaking Brendon’s face with his come.

Before Ian can really appreciate the pretty picture he just made, Spencer’s kneeling beside Brendon and licking his face clean.

“Holy shit,” Dallon says, plopping down next to Ian, watching Spencer and Brendon make out on the floor. Ian nods, slumping into Dallon’s side. He wants a shower and a freakin’ nap. Dallon seems to read his mind, and manhandles Ian under the covers. When they’re done, Brendon and Spencer squish in too, all curled up close under the crisp hotel sheets.

Seriously, best bandmates in the universe.


End file.
